I
slipped into the guarded, gated community on the Palos Verdes Peninsula
by hiking up a wooded ravine and ascending a horse trail. For a time
on the private streets, the only sounds were of birds and the distant
hum of muffled pool pumps. I passed a woman coaching a girl on a small
bicycle with training wheels. The street ended at long gated drives
flagged with signs warning of armed response. "There comes that
man again," said the child as I returned, and the mother hustled
her out of sight along a curved driveway. As I photographed trees
and clouds reflected in a car, a woman with a small dog on a short
leash gave me a wide berth.